


Runner

by shadowdriver772



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Castiel, BAMF Dean, Domestic, FBI Agent Castiel, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Past Kidnapping, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Castiel, Safehouses, Slow Burn, Witness Protection, Writer Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8373364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowdriver772/pseuds/shadowdriver772
Summary: Castiel Novak was forever indebted to Dean Winchester, and he'd never even met the man.So when Dean's past comes back to chase him, Castiel offers protection. The thing is, Dean never expected Cas' "help" would involve living together in a FBI safe house in the middle of nowhere, or that they'd have to pretend to be newly weds in order to survive.





	1. Lost

_They always kept the nightlight closest to Sammy’s bed, but there was still enough light across the room for Dean to see. He crawled over the carpet, picking up all the scattered army men and putting them away in their box._

_Dad wasn’t happy with Dean the last time they left their toys on the floor._

_But Sammy had whined so loudly to play with them; Dean gave in just to shut him up before Dad could hear them from his own room down the hall. Dean knew they’d be in even more trouble since they were supposed to be asleep, but still helped Sammy climb out of his twin bed, constantly shushing the younger brother so Dean wouldn’t get in trouble for letting him play after bedtime._

_Dean was pretty sure his army was winning, too, until Sammy had gone and fallen asleep in the middle of Dean laying siege to his fortress. He almost wasn’t able to pick Sammy up off the floor and tuck him back into bed, since Sammy was so heavy. He was almost as big as Dean now, even though Sam was only five and Dean was nine. Dean didn’t think it was fair. He shouldn’t be punished for not wanting to eat his veggies as much as Sam did by being small. It took three tries before he was able to lift his chubby baby brother onto the bed, leaving the mess of plastic toys for Dean to clean up on his own._

_Almost all of them were put away now; he was lying on his stomach, stretching to reach the last few soldiers Sammy had thrown under their dresser, when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway._

Dean jolted awake.

 

Sweat slipped down the side of his face, and his heart thudded painfully against his ribcage as he sat up in bed.

 

Fucking hell. He dropped his head into his hands, taking deep breaths.

 

He’d gone an entire month without having one of those dreams. He almost laughed. Should’ve known they’d never leave him completely.

 

Dean kicked the twisted sheets out from around his legs and went to the bathroom. Cool tap water splashed on his face, washing away the thin sheen of salt water on his forehead and under his eyes, and he yanked off his sweaty pajama shirt, tossing it to the tile floor before heading to the kitchen.

 

The clock on the microwave flashed 04:36AM at him, which was just great. _Awesome_ , really. Because now he had nothing to do except wait around, alone with his thoughts for a whole 2 hours and 24 minutes until a socially acceptable time to head to work.

 

Well, not _socially_ -acceptable, but Dean-acceptable. And even then, getting to work at 7AM still meant he’d be there three hours before the store opened.

 

It was fine. He could wait.

 

Wait while he watched his crappy coffee maker drip coffee into a mug, drop by drop.

 

By drop.

 

By drop.

 

By drop.

 

04:38AM.

 

Fuck it. Dean switched the machine off and tipped the half-empty mug back, uncaring of the scalding liquid running down his throat.

 

He tried not to use the key for the store’s back door often, but figured this morning warranted it. Hell, that was why Benny had given it to him in the first place. Dean threw on an old t-shirt and ripped jeans, grabbed an apple for lunch, and left the empty apartment.

 

A lone street light that’d been flickering for months was the only source of light in the pot-holed parking lot as he walked towards his car. Black clouds blocked out the glow of the stars, he noted with a sour expression.

 

He let out a deep sigh, approaching his rusting 1998 Camry in the dark. It took three turns of the key in the ignition before the engine sparked to life, and Dean sighed again, equal parts relieved and fed up. He had no right to complain though; his car wouldn’t be so crappy if he actually ever got off his ass and fixed it.

 

To nobody’s surprise, Dean’s piece of shit on wheels was the only one in the employee lot when he pulled in, and Dean was the first to flip the switches in the pitch black carpentry store to shine light in the dusty work room.

 

Plastic sleeves protected the paperwork inside the binder of uncompleted commissioned work, and he flipped through the pages until landing on a carved end table design for Ms. Rosen.

 

He grabbed the wood and tools he’d need, and got to work. 

 

Benny strolled in around 8AM, and Dean paused his sanding to glance up at his boss from his spot surrounded by wood shavings on the floor.

 

“Early day again for you, brother?”

 

Dean nodded; that would be enough of a response for Benny. The big Cajun was a war vet and thankfully knew enough to never ask questions about Dean’s silence or need to keep busy after one of his nightmares. If he was being honest, Benny was probably the only reason Dean hadn’t skipped out on this town yet.

 

“Well, she’s a beaut,” the bigger man said, nodding to the nearly finished table in front of Dean. “But don’t you dare think about asking for overtime for this, ‘cause you staying in the workroom today means I’m gonna be stuck up front with Gallagher in the showroom, and _I’m_ going to need all your overtime money to drink myself away after dealing with that boy all day.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Dean replied, looking down at the carved wood again to hide the blush of shame coloring his face that Benny already knew to switch their schedules around so Dean wouldn't have to deal with customers today.

 

By lunchtime, the only thing left for Dean to do on the end table was wait for the wood's stain to set, and another commission consumed his work space, already half finished. Benny came through the backroom again, complaining about how Andy had gotten stoned during his break and was asking all their customers how it felt to be destroying birds’ homes.

 

Dean sat and listened, not adding much to the conversation, and idly ran his thumbs over the waxy skin of the apple he’d brought. He had a theory Benny went out of his way to eat lunch with Dean on days like these, just to make sure he actually ate. It was humiliating to be babied by his boss, Dean thought, but he took a bite from the apple anyway to indulge the other man’s unspoken concerns, ‘cause Benny was the closest thing Dean had to a friend in this shitty podunk town and even he wasn’t stupid enough to ruin that by telling the Cajun off. He swallowed the fruit with a forced gulp, the texture making his mouth feel like he’d eaten the sandpaper he'd been using all morning. The second bite looked even more unappealing than the first, and Dean contemplated giving up on his meal entirely, but Benny would probably nag him about it for the rest of the day, especially since it was only _one_ _apple_ , and Dean really didn’t-

 

“Brother?”

 

Dean’s focus jumped away from the food, taking in the confused expression on his friend’s face.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Ain’t that your ringtone going off?”

 

He startled again, only just then noticing the vibrations in his pocket and the shrill noise of his ringer in the otherwise quiet lunch room. “Sorry,” Dean mumbled, pulling the phone out, and wordlessly headed towards the backdoor to take the call outside.

 

He stepped out onto the cement steps leading out the employee entrance, crisp pre-autumn wind whipping open his flannel over shirt as he scanned the back lot for anyone that could be watching or listening. Barely satisfied, he rotated the still ringing phone over in his hands and looked at the caller ID for the first time, and narrowed his eyes in confusion.  

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel slowly unraveled the wraps covering his hands and flexed each knuckle as it was freed from under the cloth, feeling minimal tenderness in the joints and tendons. He ducked under the ropes surrounding the boxing ring, and gave his sparring partner a nod in farewell while the other man stalked off towards the sanitizing station holding both pairs of their boxing gloves. If Castiel was completely honest, that was the best part about not losing - winner didn’t have to clean the sweat from the gloves after each use. He hauled his duffel bag over his shoulder and tried to refrain from smirking as he walked towards the elevators without another thought.

 

The elevator took him from the basement gym level to the 8th floor, and the doors opened to reveal his fellow FBI agents returning from their own respective lunch hours. He absentmindedly lifted the collar of his t-shirt to wipe at the sweat still beading along his jaw, watching his coworkers run around without so much as a crumb or stain sullying their pristine dark suits.

 

He began the long trek through the maze of cubicles to the office he shared with his specialized team, ignoring the judging looks aimed at his appearance - halting his progression only at the call of his surname from an open office door.

 

“Novak!” the voice repeated, and Cas backtracked a few steps to enter the office.

 

“Yes ma’am?” He asked, immediately taking the offered visitor seat and dropping his duffel to the floor beside it.

 

“Novak, how’s it going? I want to know what my favorite agent’s been up to.” His boss beamed at him from her own leather chair on the opposite side of the large desk.

 

Castiel returned her smile with a polite one of his own. “With all due respect, Director Mills, you tend to know what’s happening in my life better than I do.”

 

“You’re damn straight I do.” Jody said, before picking up a stack of papers on her desk and flipping through it. “But as much as I like you, kid, right now ain’t exactly a social visit. I see you and your team have triple the close rate on cases than the second best team in this division does.”

 

“It would appear so.”

 

“Well aren’t you modest,” Jody teased, glancing up at Cas from the paperwork. “Want to take a guess as to why your team is the best team in my division right now?”

 

“Possibly because our job description is to complete each assignment we’re given and bring perpetrators to justice as efficiently as possible.” Cas answered, unsure where Director Mills was trying to lead the conversation.

 

“Very clever of you, Castiel. Let’s hear my theory: you’re all robots. I mean, look at this!” She passed him one of the sheets of papers from her desk, which summarized his team’s efforts over the past three months, “the number of cases you’ve all breezed through is unheard of! There’s no way in hell you or your team members have managed enough time to properly eat, or even sleep, at all this past year. You’re all working too hard, and, quite frankly, it’s scaring me.”

 

“Thank you?” He didn’t know why Jody was phrasing his team’s closure rate and dedication to their jobs as negative attributes. Completing as many cases as possible and bringing people home safely was a good thing, Cas thought.

 

“Don’t sass me, mister,” Jody said, not unkindly, and snatched the paper back out of Cas’ hands. “Y'all don't even exist outside of this agency, and normally I'd have no problem with my special agents being dedicated to the job, but this is getting unhealthy. And don’t think I don’t know the only vacation time you’ve _ever_ taken was for a family funeral! I’m going to have to give you and the rest of your team a mandatory vacation.”

 

“What?” Castiel froze. Was this punishment for following orders? What had his team and he done wrong?

 

“You heard me.” Jody replied, rolling her desk chair towards the computer at the corner of her desk and beginning to type. “I don’t want to see you or any of your team members for another month. A whole 31 days, and don’t you dare come back a second sooner.”

 

The agent stared at the Director. “I don’t understand.”

 

“C’mon Castiel, at the rate your team is going, y’all will be burned out by Christmas, and I can’t have that happening to my best team. You need a break.”

 

When she put it that way, the implemented vacation made more sense, he reasoned. If anything, it would make Cas and his team even better when they came back – refreshed and eager to solve cases again.

 

But a whole month off… Castiel sighed.

 

“I suppose your logic is sound.” He relented, still not entirely pleased about the situation.

 

“That’s the spirit!” Jody cheered. “Give every other team a chance to catch up, hm?”

 

Cas nodded in agreement, unable to match his Director’s enthusiasm.

 

“Stop looking at this like it’s a bad thing, Castiel.” Her voice dropped to a softer tone, and Cas looked up from his hands and to see Jody’s face shift into what everyone in the office had affectionately dubbed her ‘motherly’ expression. She truly was the metaphorical mom of the entire division and, personally, the closest thing he had to a maternal figure, and Cas reminded himself that she wouldn’t try to enforce anything she didn’t think would be for the best. He twisted his lips up into a forced smile for her sake. “You’ll have plenty of time to relax, visit family; hell, schedule all your doctors’ appointments. I don’t care what you do, Novak, but I want you to take some time off to recharge your batteries. I mean, when was the last time you even got laid?”

 

Nevermind. A faint warmth spread across his cheeks. Castiel would never talk about that with his mother, especially since his surrogate was his FBI Director.

 

The blush intensified even more when he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been intimate with anyone, and Jody smirked. He had no recollection of having sex with someone in over a year, possibly two. Damn, maybe three now that he thought of it.

 

“That’s what I thought. See? I do know more about your own life than you do, Novak.” She teased, referencing the earlier part of their conversation. “Now, time for you to scram. Get out of my office, go find a nice fella that’ll treat you right, visit your family, see the biggest ball of string in the U.S. or whatever you want to spend your free time doing. I don’t want to see or hear you for another month, Novak!”

 

Castiel stood up as Jody started making shooing gestures with her hands, giving her an uncomfortable tight lipped smile and nod before walking out of the office.

 

Well. He wasn’t sure what to do now. Cleaning some personal effects out of his desk might be a good start, he figured, if he wasn’t going to be allowed back for another month. Cas didn’t know exactly what items he had in his team’s shared office, but collecting them would prolong leaving, so he headed in that direction.

 

Most of the other desks in the office space already seemed depleted of personal items, he noted when he finally arrived in his team’s room and walked towards his desk in the back corner. He'd never been one to decorate his workspace with personal items, but hadn't noticed just how stripped of emotions he'd kept his desk until now. He picked up the lone picture frame on his desk, containing a photo of him, Gabriel, and Anna at her Master’s degree graduation ceremony a few years ago, and zipped it into a side pocket on his gym duffel. Cas pulled open each of his drawers; surely he had more personal items here to mark this desk as his.

 

But there was nothing. No crudely scribbled drawings from children, no wedding photos to take home, or personalized mugs gifted to him proclaiming him the best at something - nothing that, after five years, indicated this desk belonged to FBI Special Agent Castiel Novak. He thought about taking his lucky pen home, but that sounded like too desperate a stretch even to him.

 

Embarrassingly enough, the only other effects he had were the pillow and blanket he used whenever he worked late and decide to sleep on the office floor, and he clutched his measly personal items against his sweaty t-shirt, gave his desk one last look, and left. For an entire month of vacation. One whole month. He wasn’t nervous about it at all.

 

No, he would find plenty of things to do during the next month. For example - as he began his walk home - he noticed the street outside the FBI building was lined with numerous bars. Large crowds made him uneasy, but surely bars neighboring a government building would be safe enough for him to be able to relax and enjoy himself. The Irish themed pub looked particularly appealing as he passed by; he could see himself looking forward to grabbing a drink there with… With… It dawned on Castiel that he hadn’t acquired a single non-work-related friend since he’d moved halfway across the country for this job.

 

That was mildly depressing.

 

It was still fine, Cas thought. He could follow Jody’s suggestion and visit his remaining family members. The last time he’d seen them in person had been when Anna flew to Washington D.C. for research and he let her stay at his flat, and Gabriel had flown in mere hours later because he felt left out.

 

As much as he loved his older brother, Castiel would prefer not to use his vacation time to visit Gabriel. Despite making a fortune off his surprisingly respectable private security company, Gabe’s house in Las Vegas still hosted a large number of sketchy guests with questionable morals. Combine that with the Nevada heat and swarms of drunk tourists enjoying the last few weeks of summer, and it made visiting Gabriel’s home far from the ideal destination for Castiel’s ‘vacation’.

 

On the other hand, visiting Anna in California didn’t promise any cooler temperatures, but she’d been working on her doctorate there for three years, and he felt guilty about never having visited once. She loved it there, and even voluntarily co-taught classes at the campus she studied at, yet he’d never seen her research or office outside of her single visit to D.C. almost a year ago.

 

It was decided then, as Castiel unlocked his apartment and stepped into the stale air. He would use his mandatory vacation to visit Anna at Stanford.

 

His cell phone battery had died before he’d even gotten to work in the morning, so he plugged it into a kitchen electrical outlet to charge while he fixed himself lunch. Once it regained power, he planned to call Anna and ask about her availability for the next few weeks. And then call Gabe, in case their older brother wanted to join them in California. Mentally, he’d already begun listing what he would need to pack.

 

An air vent sputtered, and Castiel turned to watch a small pluff of dust and plaster rain down over his couch. He sighed, noticing similar debris piles scattered over the splintering hardwood floors that had accumulated since he was there last. Briefly eyeing the eviction notice he knew was lying on the top of his mail stack, he turned back to his phone, clicking a button to see an icon indicating it still didn’t have enough power to turn on.

 

The more he thought about visiting his younger sister as he started boiling a pot of water to cook pasta, the more excited he became. He was so anxious to see Anna and possibly Gabriel now that even thoughts of his crumbling apartment weren’t bringing him down. If he was lucky, maybe he’d even get to meet Sam Winchester, and an actual smile twitched on his face at the thought. According to their weekly phone calls, Anna had taken the younger Winchester under her wing, despite arriving at Stanford for her doctorate only a week before Sam moved in as a freshman, so an introduction between him and Cas wouldn't be too far out of the realm of possibility. 

 

Of course, meeting Sam Winchester would pale in comparison to actually meeting Dean, Sam’s older brother and one of Anna’s best friends from her own undergraduate years at KU.

 

The particulars of how Anna and Dean’s friendship began had never been fully disclosed to Castiel or Gabriel, presumably because she hadn’t wanted her protective older brothers overreacting. However, he did know it involved underage drinking and Dean finding her at a frat party their sophomore year barely lucid and experiencing an allergic reaction after something had been slipped in her drink, and the other man immediately rushing her to the nearest hospital.

 

For that act alone, Cas and Gabe have been forever grateful to the man they’d never met. Physically, who knows what would have happened to Anna had her allergic response worsened and nobody had taken her to get medical attention. Mentally, and emotionally… Despite not being an avid party-goer in his own undergrad years, Castiel wasn’t oblivious to the sexual offenses that could have been inflicted upon Anna while in her drugged state, and he knew angels were watching over her when Dean Winchester found her that night before any lesser man could take advantage.

 

Anna and Dean had remained close friends ever since that drug had been slipped into her drink by a predator, which appeased Gabriel and Castiel’s concerns for her safety the rest of her undergraduate career - knowing there was someone at KU keeping a close eye on her. However, Cas had still never had the opportunity to meet the elusive elder Winchester and thank him. If not for the rare blurry pictures of their redheaded sister grinning next to a dirty blond haired man flashing his (very nice) backside to the camera outside of house parties at night, Cas would be half convinced Dean didn’t actually exist.

 

One day, he hoped he might get to meet the man and finally thank him properly for saving his little sister’s emotional and physical wellbeing all those years ago, but for now, becoming acquainted with Sam would suffice.

 

Castiel was now beginning to feel more of the same excitement Jody had for his vacation; the prospect of meeting ½ the Winchester family intrigued him, in addition to his yearning to see his own sister and brother.

 

His cell phone buzzed, indicating it finally had enough battery power to turn on, and Cas restrained himself from immediately deserting the cooking pasta to call his siblings. Once the pasta was properly strained, he clicked the screen button to view the notifications he’d missed.

 

To his surprise, he had six unread texts; three from Anna, two from separate coworkers, and one from Gabriel, which Castiel was willing to bet was a picture of a cat. There was also a voicemail from one of his FBI team members, a voicemail from an unknown number, and two missed calls and a voicemail from Anna.

 

Castiel decided to start with the texts first, responding to his coworkers’ texts that yes, he had heard the news that they were being put on a forced break and yes, he did think it was unbelievable. Gabriel’s text, as predicted, was a picture of a cat wearing a watermelon with holes cut out for its legs and tail. Anna always tended to have a flair for the dramatics, so Castiel was unsurprised when her three texts were all colorful variations of ‘ANSWER YOUR PHONE’. Instead of responding to her, he pulled up his missed calls, certain he would receive an explanation for her messages in her voicemail.

 

He put them on speaker while he moved back to plate his pasta. The first one was from Balthazar, asking Cas to double check their office for an expensive wine bottle opener he’d left behind after leaving for their vacation. God knows why Balthazar had a wine corker in their government office, which had a very clear ban on alcoholic beverages on the premise, but Cas made a note to reply with a text apologizing for not looking. The unknown number turned out to be a message from the water company, and he tuned it out in favor of chewing the first bites of pasta and pouring himself a glass of orange juice. A beeping tone sounded, signaling the end of the water company’s message, and an automated voice announced the beginning of his sister’s.

 

As soon as the message began, Castiel felt his heart stutter to a stop. He paused mid-pour, leaving the orange juice glass half full, and turned his entire focus on Anna’s trembling voice echoing throughout his apartment.

 

 _"Hey Cassie, it’s Anna. I know you’re busy with all your work at the FBI, but I really need your help. I’m so scared, I-I don’t know who else to call. The police are here right now, but they don’t know what to do, nobody knows what to do. So, if-um, if you could call me back as soon as you could, that’d be great. I’m sure you’ve already heard about this at work, but Lucifer – that one sicko all over the news when we were kids, or I guess you and Gabe were technically teenagers, but – shit, sorry, I’m rambling. Well-_ God _, I had no_ _idea; apparently Dean was one of those kids he t-took back then, and he was just released from prison yesterday on a stupid p-paperwork technicality error. And now no one has seen or heard from Dean in over 24 hours, and Cassie, I’m so scared. His brother is here with me and we're both freaking out; nobody can find Dean. Please, please, Castiel, I could really use your help right now. We really need your help.”_


	2. Found?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.... 4 months wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I said updates would be sporadic. Chapter 3 is almost finished though, so it might be up within another week or two - just to really make sure you all know my updating schedule makes no sense 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading!!

This had to be a fucking joke.

 

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Just another joke strung up in the long line of jokes that made up Dean Winchester’s pathetic, useless life.

 

It was like the entire universe got its rocks off by giving him a few decent, happy-ish months, and then turning everything to as mind-blowingly shitty as possible.

 

Jesus Christ - Dean slammed his hand against the hood of his car - why did this shit always fucking happen to him?!

 

What made the whole situation a thousand times worse was that Dean knew it was his own fault. _He_ was the one who decided to take on a cross-country road trip in a barely usable car that he _should’ve known_ wouldn’t be able to make it. And right now, he _knew_ why his piece-of-shit car wouldn’t start - he could work his way around an engine just fine, thank you very Goddamn much - but he didn’t have any of the fucking _tools_ he needed to fix it.

 

“I swear to God, the moment we get out of wherever the hell we are, I’m selling your ass for scrap.” Dean threatened the hunk of useless metal he was leaning against, as if the Camry could understand anything he was saying. But hell, the only other person within a thirty mile radius _in the middle of the fucking night_ , _in the middle of fucking nowhere_ was the pimple faced employee inside the convenience store Dean had stopped at for a quick bite, and even Dean wasn’t a shitty enough human being to take his crap out on some sorry teen stuck working at a 24hour Gas-n-Sip.

 

Dean slid inside the car and let out a small, defeated groan as he titled his head back against the headrest.

 

He was stuck, with only a vague sense of where he was, in a broken-down car, and his only means of communication currently in 14 different pieces scattered on the floor of the backseat. The situation was almost enough for him to regret chucking the cell phone at the brick wall outside Benny’s store and breaking it.

 

Keyword: _almost_.

 

Dean sighed. As soon as he had seen Sam calling him on a Tuesday (the giant nerd knew Dean’s rule – only call on Sundays, so Sam could focus the rest of the week on school work), he should’ve known shit was about to hit the fan.

 

Admittedly, Dean probably could’ve handled it better. But in his defense, there’s not exactly any protocol for handling a phone call from your little brother telling you that the son of a bitch who destroyed your childhood just got a get out of jail free card.

 

He may have shattered his only way to contact Sam, but at least Dean had already made it 3/4ths of the way to California before his car decided to break down. Fucking perfect timing, really. He could probably hitch hike the rest of the way. Although not a single car or truck had driven by since he’d stopped, so that plan didn’t look too promising.

 

Dean was stranded. He should’ve told Sam what he’d planned on doing - then at least his brother would have known where he was. But the only thing running through his head had been _get to Sammy protect Sammy_ and Dean hadn’t thought much past that. Thank fuck a tiny portion of that thought process had the foresight to make him speed back to his apartment to throw all his belongings in a bag and write his landlord a Post-It, since there was no way in hell Dean would be returning to that shithole any time soon. Not when Sam needed him.

 

None of that mattered now, though, because leave it to Dean to not tell anyone he was embarking on a 2,300+ mile trip from Louisiana to Stanford, and then have his car break down after stopping for a four hour nap and a convenience store burrito. With his luck, he was surprised he hadn’t been murdered and left on the side of the road yet.

 

“You gonna start for me now, you glorified Go-Kart?” He asked the car, turning the key in the ignition once more and listening to the engine grind uselessly for a full minute, before yanking the key back out. “Guess that’s a no.”

 

The door kicked open and he got out, heading back into the convenience store.

 

One bottle opener for wrench, six industrial zip ties for torque, a vegetable peeler blade acting as a screwdriver (who the fuck knew why Gas-n-Sip had a freaking _vegetable peeler_ instead of a single Philips head, but whatever), and a bloodied palm later, everything Dean could fix under the hood of the car was shoddily done and ready to go. He tossed the makeshift tools in the glove compartment and put the key in the ignition.

 

“If you start for me now, I promise you’ll never have to see my face again as soon as I get to Palo Alto.” Dean said to the dashboard, taking one deep breath and turning the key. He felt the engine slowly shudder to life, and he fist-pumped the air in relief before easing out of the Gas-n-Sip parking lot and merging back on the the westbound lanes of the highway. “Figures you’d start after that…” he muttered.

 

* * *

 

“No - Jesus, Cassie! Anna said she wanted _peach_ tea. And Sam’s coffee is supposed to be _black_.” Gabriel snapped, and Cas immediately lifted his hands off the two mugs in deference as his older brother tossed their contents into the kitchen sink.

 

“Sorry,” the agent mumbled, rubbing at his eyes and watching tiredly as the shorter man remade the drinks.

 

“They’re already going through a hard enough time after watching the N-E-W-S report about that other Lucifer kid who was found D-E-A-D; we don’t need to ruin their lives more by giving them _green tea_ or _four creams and a sugar_.”

 

“They’re not infants, Gabriel,” Castiel admonished, referring to the house’s other two occupants, sitting in the living room less than 15 feet from the cracked countertop Cas was leaning against. “They know how to spell. And I believe the implications of another one of Lucifer’s former victims found murdered are incomparably worse than the prospect of incorrect refreshment orders.”

 

“Shut up. It was for dramatic effect.” The older brother hissed, before picking up the coffee cup and handing Castiel the mug containing freshly brewed tea. “And the police haven’t said that guy was murdered, yet. They only announced that it wasn’t _not_ murder _._ ”

 

Castiel bit his tongue as he followed Gabe into the living room. Of course Gabriel still held onto the hope that the death reported on the News that morning was unrelated to Lucifer or Dean’s disappearance. If it wouldn’t break a hundred different confidentiality and privacy laws, Gabriel could see the crime scene report and photos that Director Mills had emailed to Cas’ phone earlier, and then there would be no question in his older brother’s mind as to whether or not foul play was involved. The agent didn’t know if it would be better or worse for Anna and Sam to be under the same illusion of coincidence as Gabriel.

 

When they entered the living room, their sister stood facing a bookcase along the wall, staring at a black picture frame gripped tightly in her hands. She turned at the brothers’ reappearance and put the frame back on a shelf, and Cas pretended not to notice when she ducked her head to wipe away a stray tear.

 

Instead, his eyes slanted towards the picture she’d been holding as he stepped closer to her – and saw an empty frame of clear glass. It must have contained a photo of her and Dean, the agent assumed; one of the many pictures the police took for assembling their missing person’s report.

 

“Thanks, Cassie.” Anna mumbled softly, and he nodded, carefully wrapping his arms around his baby sister (mindful of the hot tea in her hands) and stroking her red hair when she leaned in closer for support.

 

After a moment of silence, he shifted in their embrace to see if Gabriel had left the room, and saw the smaller man sitting cross-legged on the carpet beside the overstuffed chair Sam occupied.

 

The young Winchester was still in the same position they’d left him in - body hunched forward with his elbows resting on his knees and shaggy hair hiding his eyes. Coffee mug untouched on the floor between his feet.

 

“So…” Gabriel drawled, unfortunately not letting his uncharacteristic silence stretch on. Castiel twisted more in his hug to glare at the elder Novak, ready to tell him off for not respecting the grieving period Anna and Sam were obviously going through, but Sam had already begun speaking.

 

“Three days.” He said emotionlessly. “Before you ask again: it’s been three days since I heard from him.”

 

At least Gabe had the decency to look ashamed when Sam’s shoulders began to shake.

 

“It’s been over three whole days since I heard my brother’s voice over the phone.” Sam continued, his voice cracking. “And you’re right; another person Lucifer abducted has died, and Dean’s chances don’t look very good _._ But…” he trailed off, running large hands through his hair distractedly.

 

“Dean was always a really bright kid, y’know,” he began again, and Cas watched the tall undergrad stand up from his seat and begin pacing around the room. “He built his own telescope when he was 5, and then made me stepping stools out of wooden blocks to help me reach it as soon as I learned to stand. That’s the type of kid Dean was. But after… I mean, after _it_ , he was… he…” Sam lifted a sleeve of his shirt to wipe at his eyes with a sigh, and Cas heard Anna’s muffled sniffles from where she still pressed against his chest. “If they got him again, I can’t – he doesn’t deserve to go through that. Nobody does. Not again. I’d rather be at his funeral than have him go through that again,” Sam finished softly.

 

Until now, the Winchester had been mostly silent –  preferring to answer questions with short responses and only offer up enough personal information to confirm the police had also taken the majority of Dean-related possessions from his apartment – and Cas’ heart broke for the two brothers as he watched Sam finally appear to crack. He felt his mouth open, ready to offer consolation, but every word felt inadequate and died on his tongue at the absolutely lost expression marring the younger man’s face.

 

“He shouldn’t have gone through it.” Sam choked under his breath, hurriedly swiping at the tears falling faster down his face. “He’s my big brother, and it should’ve been me.”

 

Cas squinted at the words, confused by Sam’s meaning, but was quickly distracted by Anna starting to shake in his embrace, and he gently removed the empty tea mug from her hands and relocated it to an empty bookcase ledge before squeezing her thin body closer to his own and feeling the wetness of her tears soak into his shirt.

 

“Um… Actually, I was going to ask about sleeping arrangements,” Gabriel ruined the silence. Again. “I don’t know about Cassie, but I’m _pooped_ after my redeye flight over here and ready to sleep away the rest of this sob-fest.”

 

Cas, not for the first time questioning how they were related, glared at his insensitive older brother on the floor, drinking Sam’s cooled coffee.

 

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Sam’s face tinted pink with embarrassment, and then he gave his puffy eyes a final swipe. “Got carried away. My place is only a few blocks from here and has a pullout couch, if one of you wants to stay there.”

 

“That might be best,” Anna spoke quietly, extracting herself from Cas’ arms. “I only have room for one, unless someone wants to sleep on the floor. But there’s enough room for everybody to stay for dinner. A detective said she might stop by for some questions later, so I can just order us all pizza, if that’s okay?”

 

Something buzzing directed Castiel’s attention to his pocket, and he pulled out his cell phone to see _Director Mills_ flashing on the caller ID.

 

“I have to take this,” he said to no one, as Gabe and Anna had started up their usual argument over pizza toppings and Sam was wandering over to another empty photo frame hung on the far wall.

 

The agent silently slipped out of the small townhouse and onto the front stoop, closing the door behind him and sliding his finger across the phone and bringing it to his ear.

 

“ _Novak! How’s it going at your sister’s? I trust your flight got you to California in one piece._ ” Jody’s voice greeted him from the other end of the line.

 

“Yes, thank you for arranging me on a flight so last minute. And it’s as expected here,” he answered. “Anna and Dean Winchester’s younger brother are both upset, and the Palo Alto police seem to be struggling with the transference of information to the local police in Dean’s last town of residence.”

 

_“Well, the good news is that the police departments won’t have to struggle any longer. Dean is missing from Louisiana. Two of Lucifer’s other former victims have come forward asking for police protection; one in Texas and one in Maine. And with the one murder already reported in North Carolina, that makes this case officially cross state lines and become FBI jurisdiction.”_

 

Cas wasn’t surprised Lucifer’s release was already causing problems beyond the scope of local police protection, and he expressed this by opting to remain quiet as the Director went on, distracting himself with the surrounding scenery.   ~~~~

_“Now, I’ve taken your personal request – and everything is set up and ready to go, if we do ever find Dean – and am thinking of adjusting it a little now that other people are coming forward for witness protection.”_

 

Two girls around graduate-student age rolled up on bikes and laughed as they dismounted at a house a few down from Anna’s.

 

_“The US Marshal Service had no problem accepting your proposal when I sent it in, but I think assigning an FBI agent and Marshal for every Lucifer victim may be a little too ambitious.”_

 

A blue car drove by.

 

_“Until we sort through all the paperwork on the victims and Lucifer and his known associates, we’re going to have to assume this will be a nationwide effort, and resources may be stretched a bit thin; I’m going to need all my agents’ hands on deck. Technically, you and your team are staying on vacation, but since you’ve gone and caught yourself up in this mess, I expect you to be pulling your weight through the FBI’s field office in San Francisco.”_

 

Muffled dog barks came from inside a house across the street, followed by the squeal of a sliding door opening.

 

“Thank you for allowing me to stay with my sister, ma’am,” Cas said, unsure of any better response.

 

A tall man with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder turned onto the street at an intersection some ways away, strolling along the sidewalk in Castiel’s direction.

 

_“Drop the ‘ma’am’ nonsense for a minute now, Castiel. All jokes aside, I’m worried for you. This Lucifer sicko is a big deal. He was released less than a week ago, and he’s already gone in the wind, like he never existed in the first place. That takes serious power and influence.”_

 

A gray car drove by, and the man kept walking closer; hands in his pockets, looking down at the pavement.

 

_“And I know you have faith that your sister’s friend is still going to show up out of the blue after missing for three days, but I don’t, and I think you should consider spending your vacation time guaranteeing the safety of your family and this Winchester guy’s kid brother.”_

 

“I have faith Dean will reappear.”

 

Dark blond hair was noticeable as soon as the man had rounded the street corner, but more features began to jump out at the agent as the stranger neared. A strong jawline, straight nose, and broad shoulders. Black smudges contrasted with the pale skin of the man’s forearm, revealed by the rolled sleeves of the rumpled flannel the blond wore - also marred with black stains. The man was… alluring, to say the least. A frayed hole in the knee of his jeans. Cas absently wondered if he was one of Anna’s neighbors.

 

_“I know you do, Castiel, but statistically, not many missing persons show up after the first 48 hours… I just wish we could’ve done more for this Dean character, but his disappearance and the other guy’s death both tell us that Lucifer may be looking to finish the job he started a decade and a half ago, and we’ll be able to use that to pool more resources for protecting the victims still out there.”_

 

Jody’s voice gradually became less of a conversation and more of a background noise every step closer the walking man took towards Castiel. He was only two or three houses away now.

 

“Jody,” the agent cut in with a brief flash of guilt for interrupting his boss, but the feeling was quickly overruled by the need to hang up. “Jody, I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

 

_“'Kay. You say hello to that sister of yours for me, Castiel.”_

Cas blindly hit the end call button, keeping his eyes on the dark blond man, who had turned onto the short walkway leading from the sidewalk to where Cas stood on Anna’s porch, and the agent found himself unable to look away when light-colored eyes landed on him.

 

Fleetingly, he wondered if this man was a friend of Anna’s, or a boyfriend - and felt a weird twinge in his stomach at the thought.

 

“Hey,” a smooth southern voice came from the man’s curved mouth, and Cas trained his eyes harder on the other man’s to keep from looking at the pink tongue swiping along the stranger’s lower lip. “Is there an Anna Novak that lives here?”

 

Cas nodded as the blond reached the bottom of the stoop and –

 

Green.

 

The man’s eyes were green.

 

And freckles. Everywhere.

 

“Do you live here?” The man asked, stepping into Castiel’s personal space on the small porch, and the agent jerked his head without losing eye contact.

 

“No.”

 

The cloying scent of motor oil hung around the stranger, and Cas felt the man’s forearm brush his back as Green-Eyes reached behind him for the door handle.

 

“Then if you don’t mind…” he said with a small smirk before slipping through the opened door, and Cas pivoted on the spot to follow the strange man.

 

Almost immediately, Castiel was all but shoved back out onto the porch by the force of Sam hurling himself at the other man.

 

“ _Jesus_ , Dean! Where the hell have you been?!”

 

Castiel blinked in surprise at the two large men hugging. Did Sam just call this man Dean? _The_ Dean?

 

He quickly ducked his head away from the Winchesters in embarrassment – tinged with a little bit of shame – as Cas realized that his first interaction with the previously-believed-to-be-kidnapped man was blatantly checking him out.

 

“Driving. How are you, though? You okay? I was looking for you at your apartment, why does the whole place look like it’d been robbed?” The green-eyed man took a step back and asked, keeping a hand on one of Sam’s shoulders.

 

“Seriously? You’re asking how _I_ was? Why didn’t you answer your damn phone, Dean?! I must’ve called you over a million times.”

 

Dean dropped the hand to rub the back of his neck. “Ah. My phone, uh, stopped working.”

 

“Out of all the times to stop working, your phone decides to break after _Lucifer_ is-”

 

“Sam, stop yelling at him.”

 

Cas turned to see his sister – her facial expression pinched trying to hold back tears, despite the drops already rolling down her face.

 

“Anna,” Dean said softly, taking a step towards the redhead, only to have her fling herself at him much the same way Sam had.

 

“We thought you were dead.” Cas thought he heard Anna sniffle into the fabric of Dean’s shirt, as she weakly raised a fist to hit the other man’s shoulder.

 

“Easy there, Red. I’m okay. I’m alive.” He said, mimicking Castiel’s earlier movement and raising a hand to stroke Anna’s hair in attempt to soothe her.

 

“But after Lucifer was released, the police thought he’d be going after-”

 

“I know, I know. That’s why I’m here.”

 

“That’s why you came _here_?" Sam resumed pacing. "Dean, why didn’t you go straight to the police and ask for protection? Castiel said that should’ve been the first thing you did.”

 

“Castiel? Your FBI brother Castiel?” Dean directed the question towards Anna as he broke away from the hug and glanced at Gabriel.

 

“Cassie came as soon as we thought you were missing,” she explained, weakly motioning a hand towards the agent still standing near the door, and Dean’s eyes followed, widening once they landed on Cas.

 

The older Winchester’s ears turned the faintest shade of red, and the two men quickly dropped eye contact.

 

“And this is Gabriel,” Anna continued, thankfully drawing Dean's awkward attention away from Castiel.

 

“Nice to finally meet you, Dean-o,” Gabe said, and Cas peeked up to see his brother enthusiastically shaking the blond man’s hand as he introduced himself. “Genius, self-made millionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” The agent rolled his eyes as the shorter man went on. “Also, your cuddling partner for the night. Sleeping arrangements have just been decided, and now that you’ve arrived fashionably late, you’re the odd man out. Which means that unless your perky ass wants to spent the night on the floor, you’re going to be the big spoon to my little spoon on Sam’s pullout.”

 

Cas lifted his head at that, barely sparing Dean’s horrified expression a glance before replying. “No. Now that Dean is here, he and I are leaving.”

 

“What?” This time Dean stared straight at Castiel as he spoke. “What do you mean ‘you and I are leaving’? I just got here.”

 

“We're going away.”

 

“What the hell does that mean? No offense, buddy, but I’m not going anywhere with you; I’m here for Sam.”

 

“Dean, please,” Anna cut in, placing her hand on Dean’s shoulder in a placating gesture. “I asked Cassie to do this.”

 

“Do what? Where are we going?”

 

“Cassie is here to take you away. For protection.”

 

“Oh. Okay.” Dean conceded – much easier than Castiel thought he would. “I understand. So, if I’m leaving with Anna’s brother, who’s coming here for Sam?”

 

Sam paused his pacing near the far side of the room to respond. “Nobody, Dean. Castiel is taking you away for _your_ protection.”

 

“My protection? Why the hell do _I_ need protection?” Ah, there goes the anger Cas was expecting. “No, _Sam_ is the one that needs protection from Lucifer; I’m fine on my own!”

 

“Dean, you’re a target for Lucifer-”

 

“Yeah! I fucking know that! Which is why it makes sense that you’d want me to stay away from Sam, but I don’t see why I’m the one that needs some fancy FBI protection instead of him.”

 

“Dean, are you insane?! _You_ were the one Lucifer took, and _you_ were the one that testified against him at his trial!” Sam snapped, stepping towards his older brother with an angry expression. “Just- go with Castiel. At least for a little bit.”

 

“If I go with Castiel, then the FBI better be putting the whole damn Secret Service around Sam.”

 

“Dean,” Cas started, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible for the older Winchester. “Nobody is being placed at Stanford to protect him. The US Marshal Service and I, as a personal favor to Anna and as a FBI liaison, are more focused on protecting you.”

 

“No. No, _Sam_ is the one that needs the FBI and US Marshal’s protection! Why the hell aren’t you doing anything for him?”

 

“Lucifer hasn’t been determined as a threat to Sam.” Cas said, not feeling guilty in the slightest about using Sam’s name to persuade Dean. “The only threat to your brother’s safety at the moment is you. And the sooner we leave, the safer Sam will be.”

 

Dean remained silent, which hopefully meant he was at least starting to consider leaving with Castiel. The agent watched the two Winchesters share a look, and then Dean’s shoulders slumped with a long sigh.

 

“… Fine. But we’re talking about getting some of your FBI buddies here for Sam once we leave.”

 

“Of course.” Cas mumbled, staring at his shoes and fully aware there was nothing the FBI would do for Sam.

 

“When are you two going to leave?” The younger Winchester asked softly.

 

“Now, ideally.” The agent answered - immediately followed by Dean’s shout of “ _What_?!”

 

“Dean, stop it!” Anna jumped back into the middle of the room. “You two,” she motioned between the two Winchesters, “are going to stay in here and say goodbye. You’ve got five minutes, and then Dean: you better be out front and ready to go.” She snapped, then grabbed Cas’ arm and dragged him back onto the porch, followed quickly by Gabriel.

 

“Anna-” He tried to start, but was cut off.

 

“Shut up. Take care of yourself, Cassie. And take care of Dean. He’ll be much better once he cools off, I promise. Just – come back in one piece. Or, two, I guess. Since-since there’s two of you…” His sister barely hid the watery tremble in her voice, throwing her arms around Cas for a second before stepping back and allowing Gabriel to take her place and pull the agent down into a tight hug.

 

“Cassandra, you know I’m no good with dramatic goodbyes.”

 

“This isn’t goodbye, Gabriel. Dean and I will return once Lucifer and his associates are caught again.” Cas reassured, untangling himself from his older brother’s arms.

 

“Right, right. In that case, best of luck with all your witness protecting!” Gabe cheered, as Cas started walking towards his FBI-issued rental car parallel parked on the side of the road. “I’d go with you, but I don’t want to.”

 

“Thanks, Gabriel. That means a lot.” The agent deadpanned.

 

Cas unlocked his car and opened its trunk. He shifted his bags (all conveniently still there, since he’d been too tired after his overnight flight to actually unload any of them) over to make room for Dean’s duffel, and then slid into the driver’s seat to wait for the other man.

 

He pulled out his phone to send Director Mills a text informing her of Dean’s arrival and their imminent departure to the safehouse they had previously arranged for. Cas was stowing his cell back in his pocket when the passenger side door opened and Dean climbed in, not making eye contact as he buckled his seatbelt, and then stared straight ahead.

 

“Where to, Novak?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!!
> 
> Thanks for checking out this story!
> 
> Soo this is more of a side project for me - I only really work on it when I've hit a writer's block on Turnout, which means that updates may be infrequent and sporadic. 
> 
> But I do have plans for it!! The main plot points of the story have all been somewhat mapped out, and it WILL get finished. So leave a comment or a kudos to encourage me to write faster and check back whenever you've run out of other fics. Also whilst procrastinating on the next chapter of Turnout, I made [a tumblr](http://shadowdriver772.tumblr.com/); I don't do anything follow-worthy but feel free to drop by and ask about the next chapter or to say hi!
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


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